Puppet Master
by The Shadow Moon
Summary: The relationship between the blond and redhead had always been an unusual and fiery one. Deidara had, without even trying, turned his cold wooden heart into flesh and had managed to reawaken feelings that Sasori had thought he had long since abandoned. After having his heart reawaken with a pleasant stir of emotions, Sasori wasn't about to let him go.


**SasoDei – Puppet Master. **

Blood dripped off of the cold steel table, pattering onto the hard concrete floor in a twisted musical rhythm.

Sasori's scalpel cut deeper into the cooling tan flash of the dead body which was strapped onto the table. Delicate wrists were wrapped in thick leather, the skin dyed with a multitude of deep blue and purple bruising with small streaks of red adding beautiful highlights to the collage of colours. Sasori worked without thinking, following the rhythm given to him by the steady dripping blood.

Sasori danced a dance that only he knew.

The smell of rot that filled the workshop would have killed any living being that was unfortunate enough to wander in. But the horrid stench didn't bother the puppet master. Sasori's sense of smell had long since fled his body, along with all his other senses, his brilliant mind hadn't been dulled by the blade of time however.

As brilliant as his mind was, it wasn't completely focused on the task at hand, it had retreated to a place where some semblance of emotion remained, a place where thoughts of his blond flittered and danced, much like his love himself. Even as he pulled the warm, wet liver out of the cool body he still couldn't completely focus - though he knew he should be, he couldn't make a mistake.

The relationship between the blond and redhead had always been an unusual and fiery one. Deidara had, without even trying, turned his cold wooden heart into flesh and had managed to reawaken feelings that Sasori had thought he had long since abandoned.

A small smile graced his normally impassive face, the smile that only one person ever got to see. Who knew that Deidara would turn out to be the partner that Sasori held so dear? So many pleasant memories were shared between the two of them, times that Sasori held onto tightly, nearly as tightly as he held onto his blond. All of the memories made with the blond were special, from their arguments about art to the nights spent in passion.

Clutching the liver tightly in hand he reached for a large bowl full of different organs, dumping it in with the others with a loud, wet slap. Some of the organs in the bowl where already half rotting, a most grotesque sight. Taking the bowl in his arms, he walked over to the small, almost invisible compartment that was hidden in one of the walls and placed the rotting organs inside. Zetsu was no doubt starving and would welcome the snack, rotted or not.

Now that he had empty the body of any organs, he started on the task of carefully sowing it back up. With painstaking care he pushed the needle into surprising subtle skin; he had to be extremely cautious. This new puppet was going to be his ultimate piece of art and he couldn't afford to make any mistakes, he couldn't just try again. His hands followed the familiar rocking motions and Sasori couldn't help but think of the various ways that he had done the exact same action.

**~-~o~****O****~o~-~**

The thin needle bobbed in and out of the sickly pale flash, an overly familiar moment for the puppet mater, even if the situation was not. He once again pushed the fine needle into the pale flesh and felt the, for one living, arm twitch in pain underneath his steady hand.

"Deal with it brat, it's your own fault that I have to do this, if you hadn't been so reckless." His whisper fell heavily onto death ears, as did the pain which was laced delicately through his words. The man whose arm he was stitching did have a reason not to reply to the emotionally strained man, he was unconscious and plagued by an extremely high fever. Tying off the stiches in silence, Sasori took time to pick apart about the thoughts and emotions which crashed about in his mind. For the first time in years, he Sasori a man supposably devoid of all human emotions, had felt actually fear, he had felt his stomach knot and twist in absolute agony of worry.

All because this brat of a blond had the incredible intelligence to lower his guard and allow an enemy to get close enough to deal some serious damage as well as some poison. Sasori had to sadly dispatch the Iwa hunter nin that he had been planning on making into refined art and hurry over to Deidara's aid. Somehow the nin had managed to not only evade all of Deidara's explosives, but had actually managed to get him pinned on the ground, paralysed by poison with kunai posed to slit his neck. As much as Sasori would have loved to show the nin the true meaning of pain over several days, there was no time to waste and as such Sasori had had to kill him with a well-placed blow through his chest.

Sasori had then spent the next few hours with fear and confusion boiling beneath the surface of his wooden body, with panic setting in a Sasori worked for hours on end on his half dead partner. Said blond had been sleeping on and off for the past three days, with waking moments filled with panic and debilitating illusions. Sasori had for the most part stood by in frustratingly powerless, except to physical restrain Deidra from either hurting himself or Sasori. Apart from those few panic filled moments, Sasori could only watch and hope that we was at least lessening the pain that was crippling Deidara.

It was to Sasori's immense relief that Deidara's fever finally started to lessen and Deidara himself seemed to calm down. Four days after Sasori had dragged his body to the crappy hotel, administered the antidote to the parlays' poison and repaired his broken body, Deidara had the sense to wake up for a least a few minutes, his mind free of the normal illusions.

"Sasori." The feeling of satisfaction and relief that flowed through his mind was frustratingly annoying, still the pleasure of the fact that the brat had decided to call his name in his first waking moment was overly pleasing. "Sasori?" The rising panic evident in Deidara's voice spurred Sasori into movement and he quickly sat down on the bed next to his still frightening pale companion. A weak smile and whimper emitted from Deidara as he closed his eyes letting his body sink down into the mattress.

"Deidara, oi. Brat." Cupping one of the smooth cheeks, he gingerly ran a thumb over it, trying to cox Deidara's eyes open, which after a tense minute they did. They might have been clouded over in pain, but there were still the clear blue that Sasori had always loved.

**~-~o~****O****~o~-~**

It was with a critical eye that Sasori appraised his work. The stiches were small and evenly placed and when removed there would be no scar or uneven skin to show what happened. A sickening smile filtered over his lips. "Perfect." He purred out into the silent room, the faces of his puppets the only ones to witness his madness.

Now he had to make sure to preserve the face, he had already placed special oils and Justus all over the body to stop the decomposition. To the unknowing or innocent eye, the male had just chosen a rather strange place to sleep, with their eyes open of course. Running a finger around the left eye, Sasori came to the grim conclusion that it would take a great deal of effort to preserve them. He could skip the whole process and just place in painted stones, but the eyes where vital and this puppet wouldn't be the mater piece he envisioned with out them. The lips would have to be done with meticulous care as well, they needed to stay as plush and soft as they were now.

Another bowl in hand, this one carved elaborately, was filled to the brim with a sour and bitter smelling liquid. He had already applied a few layers of some of the diluted chemical when the soon to be puppet was still alive, Sasori thought he was going to scream the place down. Scooping some into his hands, he didn't' feel the supposed bitting pain if the howling a few days early was anything to go by.

He massaged the foul smelling chemical onto the face and body, making sure to avoid contact with the eyes and the mouth. Washing his hand once he was done, he couldn't stop himself from trailing one finger over the lips of the supremely preserved body, it's insides hollowed out and filled with a soft wood. He stood there staring, just running his thumb over the lips again and again, as he thought about Deidara's lips. He had always loved Deidara's lips, always plush, soft and above all warm. Always welcoming and ready to either lets his silver tongue fly with malice or t dance alongside Sasori's own.

Those lips were just like every other part of Deidara, a part that he loved deeply with a strange and undying passion. He was not one for human contact, he would much prefer to cut someone's hand of rather than hold it, yet he could get enough of Deidara. Every single inch of him he yearned to caresses, to hold.

Sasori continued to absent mildly stroke the lips beneath his finger, his mind flittering through some of his more memorable experiences with Deidara lips. He had always been an amazing kisser, his lips and tongue always ready and willing to dance and play, whether it was just a peck on the cheek, or a more passion meeting of tongues during their many late and fervent nights.

Blinking twice, Sasori shook his head and set his mind back on the task at hand, this body wasn't going to preserve itself. No matter how hard he tried to concentrate, he mind kept on wandering endlessly and he didn't have the power to call it back. It was really the little things that made his relationship with Deidara so highly unusual, the endless amount of questions that the brat wouldn't hesitate to throw at him, while Sasori found them highly annoying were also very refreshing. It was the first time in over a decade that someone had bothered to asking him about something as insignificant as his birthday.

It was the first time in a decade that someone had not only asked him but also celebrated the ordinary day like it was something special, the way the brat managed to make his non-existent stomach bubble and twist with little to no effort was alarming. To Sasori great annoyance, he quite quickly found himself admitting defeat and had to come to terms with the fact that he actually felt something for the brat, other than complete and utter loathing.

Just like it was the finer details that made their relationship a strange one yet beautiful one, it was going to be the fine details that decided on whether or not this puppet was going to be his master piece. Growling under his breath, he continued his work of spreading the chemical concoction over every square inch of the body. Picking up a fine needle like blade he started to cut out the eyes, and quickly placing them into two separate jars filled with an even more foul smelling concoction. While he waited, he hollowed out the sockets, and like had done with the limbs, he placed wooden supports in, before carefully and painstaking placed the beautiful eyes back into their proper place. Now all he had to do was make wait for the body mostly hollow to be fully preserved, which would have few hours.

Exiting his workshop he strode along the endless stone hallways of the Akatsuki base, heading for his and Deidara's shared room. Said room was cluttered with half moulded clay, knocked over chairs and strewn with cloths. All of which was caused by his brat. He didn't know why he had come here, despite the late hour he didn't need to sleep, so really the neatly made bed that was his was a redundant object.

The only thing the in the dull room which was of any worth was the small window which looked out on the deserted meadows which surrounded the base. Looking out of the small thing, he could clearly and easily observe the night sky much to his distaste. This still didn't stop him from ending up on a lonely little hill flat on his back looking up at the clear night sky, everything was perfect except for the missing blond. Sighing heavily, Sasori glared up at the sky, it was not art not matter how many times to blond preached to him, art was always meant to be everlasting.

He rolled over onto his side, his hand reaching out on instinct for a nonexistence hand to hold. When his fingers touch the damp grass he let his body and hand go limp and allowed his mind to flow with thoughts of his blond. Unlike the ones which danced tantalisingly with him in his work shop these ones made his stomach twist and flip in a completely different way.

To Deidara art was a fleeting moment, one of intense beauty whose memory would stay with it's witnesses for the rest of their life. Just as Sasori have become his art, an everlasting puppet, Deidara had wished for nothing less that to become his own fleeting art. The last few weeks had been spent with Sasori sitting and listening to Deidara prattle on about it, how and when he was going to do it, colours, location. Everything down to the last little detail.

The first time it had happened, he had firmly told the brat that he would turn him into a puppet before he had the chance to, together they would live and love forever. Deidara had just laughed in his face, kissed him on the forehead and danced off, singing over his should.

"Danna, you love me too much to do that un."

It was in rare silence that Sasori watch night turn to dawn and dawn turn to day. When the sun shone firmly on him, he decided that the body should be preserved well enough now to start making the final touches, to truly make him immortal. Opening the door to his workshop the petit body was lay out just as he had left it, blond hair strewn about the table, covered in blood and muck he would have to wash it later.

He placed the joints in seamlessly, placing wood and metal into the hollowed cavity in the body, humming a small tune to the body while he oiled and caressed the skin. He was truly a master piece, to look at him he look perfect, completely seamless in his completion. The stiches would be removed soon, as would the scars. Rolling his shoulder joints, he stepped back to admire his handy work, it had taken more time than he would have liked, however one would rush perfection and the perfect being that sat before him would last forever.

Once again he left his workshop, noting the setting sun as he went to fetch clean water and a certain brush. Returning he immediately set out cleaning the soft hair, before styling it as the puppet once wore it in everyday life. Once all the finer details where one, the being that sat before him was beyond perfect, completed and better than he had been in life.

In the soft gloom of the room, blue chakra strings attached themselves to the newly created doll, hair washed and styled, eyes no longer glowing as they had in life. This was his greatest gift to Deidara, it was perfect in every way. Flexing his fingers slightly the wood in the puppet groaned before complying, as the being complied with its masters wishes.

Smiling manically he kissed the still plush lips biting his puppets lower lip gently but he unsurprisingly received no response. Reaching out with one hand, he used the other to control the sting which attach pulled the puppets and up and out in a fluid, graceful motion and Sasori took the hand which was now as cold as his own. Whispering softly into the room, he smile now a peaceful one instead of maniac, he said the words which christened his eternal master piece, hand still grasped firmly in his own.

"Come on Deidara; let's see if the stars are out."


End file.
